Cousins, Cowboys, and Bottle Caps

Image © Mikael Cronhamn via stock.xchng

When I was a child, we lived next door to my Uncle Cliff and his family. My four cousins were my playmates. The oldest was usually the director of our games of “pretend,” setting the scenario for a story of princesses in a castle, with all that entailed. But her interests changed, and she moved on to “older” things.

And then the second oldest found our play too juvenile, and so the third in line, who is one month younger than I, became my main playmate.

His interests were different from those of his older sisters, and so our “pretend” scenarios changed from princesses-and-castles-and-one-lone-knight to cowboys and cops-and-robbers. I was perfectly happy to play the games he chose, since they went along with the movie serials we watched at the Wink Theater every Saturday morning

But the most amazing thing about our play was something I didn’t notice at the time. When I look back now, I’m struck by my cousin’s creativity.

Image © Billy Alexander via stock.xchng

We didn’t have a lot of toys. For our cowboy games, I had a broken piece of a toy gun, and everything else was imaginary. Except for our “money.” My cousin decided we should collect bottle caps. We scraped the cork inner lining from them and flattened them with Uncle Cliff’s hammer to make coins.

My cousin wanted a fancy gun and holster set for our play, which he knew he was unlikely to get. And so he made one.

He used cardboard, made slits to thread his belt through, and attached a row of bullet loops made from a smaller strip of cardboard. The holster, though, was amazing. He folded cardboard over to make a smooth front roll, trimmed the back edges into the proper shape and fastened them together by punching holes and looping string through them in an attractive pattern. He painted the whole thing black, using shoe polish, and he decorated it with daubs of silver paint “studs.”

At the time, I thought it was absolutely beautiful. And I’m even more impressed now that I look back on my cousin’s ingenuity, his workmanship, and his persistence. Making that holster set took months, because he was so painstaking with it, getting every detail just right.

I wonder about our children today, with their overflowing toy boxes, their access to all kinds of electronic gadgets, and the ease with which they get what they want. Do they ever have a chance to yearn for something they can’t have to the point that they find a way to make something else to fulfill that desire (and thereby satisfying more than just that original want)?

What about you? What things do you remember from your childhood?